Page 21 of Iron Will

“Does the mother have insurance?” Blake asks pointedly.

“I…” My brain races for an answer that will satisfy him, but I know there isn’t one. The truth is, Bethany is uninsured, and I’m sure he suspects this.

“We are not a charity organization,” he snaps. “And the girl is not in any immediate danger, is she?”

“No, but—”

“Who’s the attending doctor on staff?” he asks. “No, don’t bother answering that. I’ll find out myself.” Blake pushes himself up to a stand and turns away. “I think it’s time for her to be discharged.”

“Blake, please…” I begin. Belatedly, I curse myself for not trying the catch-more-flies-with-honey approach with him from the outset. I know from experience how much he loves being flattered — loves having his ego stroked. But I’ve been careful not to do anything that could be construed as leading him on, afraid of what the consequences might be. Because Blake has been trying to get me to go out with him — or at least to sleep with him — since before I was even hired here.

I didn’t realize how bad it would be at first. Oh, sure, he was a little creepy during the interview. But call me naive, I brushed it off. And I really wanted this job, so I told myself I was probably imagining things.

Turns out, I definitely was not.

The memory of the first few months of my employment here at Morningside Hospital makes a cold lump of ice form in my stomach. Blake has never quite forgiven me for turning him down when he asked me out on a date a few days after I was hired at Morningside. Ever since then, it’s been a delicate dance to keep pretending I don’t notice or understand the obvious signals he’s been sending me. To pretend I don’t notice when he brushes up against me in close quarters. To act like I think it’s funny when he makes jokes that are really just thinly-veiled sexual innuendoes.

I’ve worked hard to prove myself at this job. But the longer I’m here, the more I realize that doesn’t matter. Because Blake Barber didn’t hire me for my qualifications.

The fact is, even though I’m damn good at what I do, that’s not why Blake hired me. He hired me because he thought I would put out.

I love my job. I do. But the longer I’m at Morningside, the more I have the sense that I’m on probation with him, and that I’m not measuring up to his expectations. I’ve been as businesslike as possible, hoping to win him over with my professionalism and work ethic. Beyond that, I try to avoid him as much as possible, figuring the less I’m on his radar, the better. Because my job, no matter how well I do it, depends on Blake’s good opinion of me.

The longer I’m here, the more convinced I am that his opinion of me will never be good, because I’ll never give him the one thing he wants. As much as I try not to think about it, the reality is clear.

Professionally, I’m on borrowed time.

But right now, none of that really matters. Right now, the most important thing is that I do my best by Paisley. Ineedto talk to her mom about Mickey. I need to find out whether he’s a danger to either one of them. To try to help them.

But in order to do that, I need for Paisley to still be in the hospital, where she’s safe. I need to buy myself some time. Even if it’s only another day.

So, knowing I’ll probably pay for it later, I take a step forward and lean over his desk.

“Blake,” I breathe, letting my voice go husky. I lower my eyes submissively — despising myself for stooping this low — and make sure I’m bent over just enough that he can see the swell of my breasts through the opening of my blouse. “Could we give it just alittlelonger? I’m really worried about Paisley. And I know Doctor Methaney said he felt she needs more time under observation. Just to make sure.”

You would think that a stunt so blatant would never work.

That Blake would see right through what I’m trying to do.

But instead, he takes a good, long look at my boobs, while I pretend not to notice.

Then, with a sigh, he gives me a teasingwhat-am-I-going-to-do-with-youshake of his head.

“All right” he tells me, with a smirk that stops just short of a leer. “I’ll let it go for now. But Laney, I expect you to check in with me daily and let me know what her progress is. I need reports on when the doctors plan to discharge her.”

“Understood.”

“And make sure those bikers stop congregating in the hallway,” he says, his lip curling in distaste. “I’m relying on you to call security if they won’t comply.”

I want to argue with him. But at this point, I figure I should quit while I’m ahead.

So instead, I assure him I will.

“Thank you, Blake,” I say breathily.

Then I duck out of there before he can say anything else.

I just bought myself a few more days. I’d better make it count.

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